There are some stories that are too big, too sweet, too wonderful to tell. I've been so busy living these blue jay days, these rare and unrepeatable Jemima days, that I haven't had time to write about her or share it all. I've given myself and my time over to nurturing her and recording her every new behavior with video and photos. She's too big, her story too good, to be passed over, and it's
Jemima Jay Comes Home
There are some stories that are too big, too sweet, too wonderful to tell. I've been so busy living these blue jay days, these rare and unrepeatable Jemima days, that I haven't had time to write about her or share it all. I've given myself and my time over to nurturing her and recording her every new behavior with video and photos. She's too big, her story too good, to be passed over, and it's
Fair Ellen-A Remembrance
October 15, 2015
I could tell it was her 500 yards away, because she was so small, and her head never went up quite right, or as high as it should.
I was always glad to see her, glad, I guess, that she'd survived another week, month, year, or minute.
My heart followed her all year long, for nine years.
Life is hard enough for a whitetail who's born perfect.
But there was
Painting in Audubon's Lines
We all have one in a closet somewhere: an old print that has lost its lustre.
Sunlight happens. A print that's hanging in a corner that's dark in January is suddenly illuminated by a shaft of morning sun in June. Shine enough such June morning sunbeams on a print, even one behind conservation glass, and bad stuff happens.
The Arctic tern loses all the color in its blood-red bill
Blue Jay Days
It's been two weeks since I've posted, an eternity in the Zickiverse, but there is an excellent reason for that. I have met my Waterloo, and she came to me as a starving, dehydrated little 12-day-old lump of winsome, found by a kind teacher in the middle of the street and left in a safer spot to wait for parents who never came. I started, via Facebook messages, to give her savior instructions